


the boxer

by SunshineBomb



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Hongjoong is whipped, IT WILL GIVE YOU CAVITIES, M/M, Not Beta Read, They're in a cabin, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, hongjoong does art, inspired by the best simon and garfunkel song of all time, just seongjoong being soft boyfriends, no angst here bois, other bois are barely even mentioned, seonghwa is Whipped, seongjoong, simon and garfunkel, they listen to simon and garfunkel, they're in love and they're gross about it, they've got a week off so they spend it in a cabin i guess, this is pure christian minecraft server content, this is so mushy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22476775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineBomb/pseuds/SunshineBomb
Summary: The boys have a week off, so Hongjoong and Seonghwa decide to spend it together in a cabin.Cavity-inducing fluff ensues.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 3
Kudos: 86





	the boxer

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not dead yay!  
> and for once it's not an idol producer fic
> 
> pleathe leave comments and kudos they always make my day :)

Rain pattered against the wide windows, drops racing down and distorting the view of the forest outside. For the first time in months, it was quiet. The other boys had chosen to go elsewhere for their week off, leaving Hongjoong and Seonghwa to go wherever they wanted. They had chosen to stay in a cabin in a forest a couple hours outside of Seoul. Since their arrival two days prior, it had been raining non stop, providing a consistent soundtrack to their otherwise quiet days. It was a nice change from the overwhelming city noises they faced on a daily basis.   
Against one of the giant floor-to-ceiling windows that surrounded the better half of the living room rested a rather well-loved window seat. The upholstery clearly hadn’t been updated in years, and the fabric had been worn thin in one spot. It was in this spot that Hongjoong sat, headphones in, laptop propped up on his knees as he clicked away at some unfinished draft of a song. Seonghwa emerged from the kitchen, two steaming mugs of tea in his hands, and approached Hongjoong. He set one of the mugs down on the small table next to the window seat and gently tapped him on the shoulder. Jumping slightly, he slid his headphones off and smiled softly at the sight of the other. He sat across from him, taking a sip from his own mug. 

“I made tea, you should drink it before it gets cold,” he says, nodding to the mug on the table. Hongjoong closes his laptop and sets it on the floor before picking up the tea, humming a small “thanks.” 

“I still can’t believe you’re working on our week off,” Seonghwa says. “We get one whole week where we don’t have to worry about schedules or practicing, and you’re still working.” Hongjoong looks down, slender finger tracing the rim of the pristinely white mug.

“I know, I know I should be resting, enjoying the time off, but my brain won’t let me, y’know? I just can’t stand not having anything to do.” he admits. Seonghwa sighs and nudges the other’s sock-clad foot with his.

“At least take a break for a couple hours, yeah? I found some records, we could listen to music and you could paint or draw. I know it’s been a while since you’ve done that.” Hongjoong looks up and sees him looking at him with nothing but love in his eyes, and he melts. 

“Okay,” he agrees. “That sounds nice, actually.” Seonghwa stands up and shuffles over to one of the dark floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, scanning the vinyls nestled together, filling up a couple of the shelves. Hongjoong just watches him as his eyes travel across the spines of the records, steaming mug still held tightly in his hands that could barely be seen due to his sweater paws. He couldn’t help but smile at the older. He felt himself falling deeper in love with him each day. To him, Seonghwa was perfect in every way; what others would consider nagging, he saw as caring. His awkward boxy smile made Hongjoong’s heart melt every time he saw it. He was deeply in love, and he wouldn’t change it one bit.  
Seonghwa turned to face him, as if he were about to say something, but instead blushes and smiles awkwardly.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks shyly, his face flushing. Hongjoong sighs happily, resting his chin on his knees.

“I love you, Hwa,” he says. His face flushes a darker pink.

“I love you too, Joong-ah,” he replies, unable to suppress the giggle that bubbles up. Spending time with Hongjoong, or even simply being in the same room as him, makes him feel like a lovesick teenager again, blinded by adoration and oblivious to everything but Hongjoong. They pause for a moment, just basking in the other’s presence. After a moment, Hongjoong sits up and crosses over to look at the records with Seonghwa. He leans his head against his shoulder, the other’s arm coming to wind around his waist and pull him closer. 

“Which one were you thinking?” he asks. Wordlessly, he puts his mug down and reaches forward to pull one off the shelf. Its worn and faded sleeve shines dully in the light. “Bridge Over Troubled Water. Good choice.” 

“I’ve liked it when you’ve played it,” he goes to the record player on one of the other numerous shelves and starts the record. The soft sound of a piano fills the room, and Hongjoong immediately goes for his sketchbook. He sits back in his window seat spot, this time facing Seonghwa.

“Sit on the couch, right by the armrest. I want to draw you and that spot would be perfect. You can do whatever, but just sit right there.” he motions for him to sit, and instead he drapes himself dramatically over the armrest, looking at Hongjoong with heavy-lidded eyes and a smirk. 

“Draw me like one of your French girls, Joongie.” he says in an overly husky voice. He rolls his eyes.

“Please, Hwa? I really want to draw you,” Seonghwa grins and obeys, unable to resist the younger’s pout.

“Anything for you, love.” he blushes at the pet name and buries his face in his sketchbook, glancing up every once in a while only to meet the other’s loving gaze. They sit in silence for a while, Simon and Garfunkel playing as the soundtrack to Hongjoong’s creation. Seonghwa watches him as he draws, memorising the way he focuses; the tip of his tongue pokes out of his heart-shaped lips, and he tilts his head to the side as he tries to perfect an angle. At one point, he gets up to get his markers, only to return and continue with the piece.  
A few songs in, Hongjoong stops altogether, smiling softly and setting his markers down. He leans up against the window, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“Everything okay?” he asks. He nods.

“Yeah, this is just my favourite on the album. Wanted to listen to it without having to multitask.” he answers. He motions to him, patting the space beside him on the couch. He hops up, cuddling into Seonghwa’s side and closing his eyes. Seonghwa also lets his eyes slip shut, letting the music wash over him. He can see why it’s Hongjoong’s favourite, it reflects the younger’s own personality. It’s soft and sweet, but it’s intense in some places, pure melancholy in others. It tells a story in its own uniquely artistic way.

“What’s this one called?” he asks.

“‘The Boxer,’” he answers. He pauses before speaking again. “The drawing’s done, wanna see it?” he picks his head up to look at him. 

“Of course, show me,” Hongjoong gets up to retrieve his sketchbook, presenting its open pages to Seonghwa. The art on the page nearly takes his breath away. Everything about it is so Hongjoong, even though it’s a picture of Seonghwa. The lines are rough, unclean, but they make a picture so vivid it could almost be real. The colours he used are bright, unnatural for their subject matter. Where the bookshelves would be in the room, on the paper, there are words. They’re scrawled in Hongjoong’s chaotic handwriting, and they’re all in English. The words fill up all of the negative space on the page. 

“They’re lyrics,” he says. “The lyrics to ‘The Boxer.’ I don’t know, I just needed something to fill the space, I couldn’t think of anything--”

“It’s beautiful,” Seonghwa says, awestruck. “This… this is beautiful, Hongjoong.” he finds himself unable to string together more words than that to describe it. It’s beautiful because it was made by Hongjoong, because it looks like Hongjoong. He shyly sits back beside him again.

“You think so?” he asks, unsure.

“Kim Hongjoong, this is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life. Well, next to you, of course.” he winks, and he curls into himself, burying his face into Seonghwa’s shoulder.

“Stop, you’re embarrassing,” his words are muffled by his sweater. Laughing softly, he puts the book down and pulls Hongjoong against him, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

“I meant it though. It really is beautiful,” he says. He looks up, face flushed red.

“Thank you,” he whispers before resuming his original position of being cuddled against the other. He closes his eyes once more, letting himself fall asleep.


End file.
